The Christmas Aversion
by owlwayssandforever
Summary: Emma doesn't really like Christmas, but can Killian and Henry find a way to get her in the holiday spirit?
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: This is my CS Secret Santa gift for the lovely nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable ! I hope you like it! There's two parts to this, and the first one is a bit more angsty, but the second is all fluff!_**

* * *

"Mom, can we get a Christmas tree to go in here?" Henry asked, bouncing up and down on the couch as Emma walked in with a bowl of popcorn.

"Right this second? I thought we were gonna watch Star Wars," she answered, teasing.

"No, but maybe tomorrow?"

"I don't think so, maybe next weekend," Emma said, and Killian looked on as she seemed to squirm.

"But its already getting close to Christmas, and if we wait any longer all the good trees will be gone!" Henry protested, oblivious to his mother's discomfort.

"Lad, I think your mother has other things she needs to do tomorrow, I doubt there will be time," Killian interjected, and Emma seemed at least slightly relieved.

"Fine," Henry said, dropping back into the couch and sulking for a split second before he reached for the remote and hit play, the prospect of Star Wars lifting his spirits again.

Emma held onto the bowl of popcorn as if it were a life raft for a moment, and then offered it to Henry and Killian, plastering a smile on her face and trying to get back in the mood for the movie.

* * *

"Love, is everything alright?" Killian asked as they folded back the heavy plaid duvet on their bed.

"Sure," Emma answered, without really thinking, as she sat down on the bed, clad in red flannel pants and white camisole.

"You just seemed a bit uncomfortable when Henry brought up the Christmas tree," Killian continued after a moment, his fingers toying with a loose thread at the corner of the duvet. "And you don't seem to be as Christmas spirited as the rest of your family has become."

Emma shrugged, looking down at the blue blanket.

"I'm just not that into Christmas, that's all," she said quietly, without looking up at him.

"Emma…" he pressed as he sat down on the bed next to her, he needed to understand this.

"It's just… the whole orphan thing. I never really… got Christmas as a kid," Emma sighed, looking up at him with a sad sort of smile. He gave her an encouraging and sympathetic look, so Emma went on. "It's just that, as a kid in foster care, you don't really get any of it. The foster homes didn't really decorate and we definitely didn't get presents from them, and nothing was really ever different during the holidays, except in some of the houses it was a lot colder because the heating didn't work so great." Now that she had started talking, she couldn't keep everything in anymore, as it so often happened with her conversations with Killian. "But I still went to school and we made snowflakes and wrote letters to Santa, only Santa never came to my house, and the thing with Santa is that if he doesn't come, you think its because there's something wrong with you, because you misbehaved or just weren't good enough in general and it really messes with your head, 'cause everyone else gets them but you."

"When we were in the service of the captain my father sold us to, Liam and I, we never really knew when it was Christmas," Killian shared, looking straight ahead of him, as if he were seeing the rocking boat rather than the bedroom wall. "Liam was allowed to go ashore at ports sometimes, so he usually tried to find out when it was about Christmas, but we hardly ever knew for sure. And we had no money for gifts, everything we had we were saving to buy our freedom, and to buy commissions. One year, Liam did some favour for an innkeeper, and she rewarded him with two drumsticks from her Christmas turkey. Of course, he wished to share them with me, so he tried to sneak them onto the ship, but the captain caught him, took the drumsticks for himself of course. Bloody fool should've just eaten them at the inn while he had the chance."

Emma knew what he was doing, of course. It was not a competition, who had the sadder story, but it was a way of saying that he understood, without pitying her.

"Do you have no happy memories of the holidays, Swan?" he asked, turning to her with a curious and heavy smile.

"Some, I guess," she said after considering for a moment. "The year I was with Ingrid, it was pretty good. She went all out, tree, presents, cookies out the wazoo. It wasn't long after that I ran away though. And of course, I didn't remember that year for most of my life." Emma smiled wryly, thinking about Ingrid and all that had happened with her. "There was another year too, I was with this family, and they were great. They didn't celebrate Christmas though, they were Jewish, so we did Hanukkah that year. But they got me presents and taught me to make latkes and let me be included in all their family traditions. They took pictures with me like I was going to be a permanent part of their family. That was… that was probably the best year, holiday-wise."

Killian nodded when she was finished with her story, and then leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, feeling her smile slightly. They said their goodnights and shimmied down further into the bed, curling up together, and as they drifted toward sleep, an idea began to form in Killian's mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, I _finally_ finished the second part of my CS secret santa present for nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable! I'm so sorry it took so long, lovely, but I really hope you enjoy the ending!**

* * *

"Lad, this year, we're going to do things a bit differently," Killian said, as he and Henry sat in a booth at Granny's for lunch while Emma was at work.

"I don't understand though, why doesn't Mom like Christmas?" Henry countered, his brows knitting together.

"I'm not entirely sure how much she's told you about it," Killian answered tentatively, trying to figure how much and what he should say, "but you know that your mother didn't have the best childhood, aye?" Henry nodded solemnly. "And the holidays were a particularly difficult time for her as a young lass, so I don't think she particularly enjoys celebrating them now."

"Oh," Henry said, sounding defeated.

"Aye, but, we're going to do the things that she did enjoy," Killian continued, an excited and slightly mischievous glint shining in his eye. "It'll be a bit of a surprise for her."

"Okay!" Henry noticeably perked up. "What should we call it?"

"Operation Armadillo?" Killian suggested, but Henry wrinkled his nose.

"How about Operation Reindeer?" Killian hesitated – the whole point of this is that they _weren't_ going to be celebrating Christmas, or at least not exactly.

"Alright lad, if that's what you want."

"Great!" Henry grinned. "So what's the plan?"

"Well, I thought we could find some recipes for things your mum likes," Killian scratched anxiously behind his ear. He had sort of come up with a plan, but he wasn't entirely confident in it, and he was nervous to hear what Henry would think. "And then we could get all the stuff for it, and when she gets home, we can all make the things together. Or you and I could make it and have it ready for her when she gets home."

"Okay…" Henry answered, looking as though he expected more to the plan, but when Killian didn't speak he seemed to gather himself. "So are we doing presents? What about a tree?"

"No, no tree," Killian said firmly. That he was sure about. "I suppose, we could do presents. Maybe just one from each of us? Nothing elaborate. No Santa Claus."

"Alright," Henry replied, sounding a little glum. "So are we going to have any decorations?"

"Candles," Killian answered instinctively, and he knew right away that it was the right answer. "I think Emma would like candles."

Henry gave Killian a look like he thought filling their house with candles was way to gooey and romantic, but he shrugged and went with it anyway.

"So what are we making?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in an endearing echo of Killian.

"You'll be in charge of the Christmas cookies, lad, and I'll make a stew that my mum taught me to make. And when Emma gets home, we can all make latkes together," Killian replied with a satisfactory nod.

"Okay," Henry sounding confused, but he allowed himself to roll with it. "Let's go to the library to see if they have any cookbooks."

"An excellent idea."

* * *

Henry had been ambitious, wanting to make gingerbread men, frosted sugar cookies, _and_ shortbread, and Killian had not been one to stop him, but as he looked around at the floury mess that had taken over their kitchen, he was beginning to regret that decision. Flour and pieces of dough covered every flat surface, and Killian was beginning to panic that they wouldn't be able to clean all of it up before Emma got home. All the cookies were now baked, and Henry was sitting at the table icing them meticulously, his tongue poking out as he concentrated. As he decorated, Killian took a sponge and began carefully wiping down the counters, trying to make the kitchen at least semi-decent, as he expected Emma to be home any minute. There were bowls with everything they needed to make latkes sitting on the counter, ready to go when Emma got there.

"Hey, what cookies do you think Mom is going to like back?" Henry asked, making Killian look up from where he was vigorously scrubbing some stubborn flour.

"Ah, I don't know lad, they all look delicious," he replied diplomatically.

"I think she's gonna like the ninja cookies the best, they're pretty cool," Henry grinned, and Killian glanced over at the rows of decorated ninja gingerbread men with a smile.

"Aye, you did an excellent job with those," he answered. "And it seems like the sort of thing your mum would like."

They heard the door open and both men perked up, Henry practically shooting out of his seat as he ran to say hello.

"Hi Mom! How was work today? Are you hungry?" Killian heard him chattering, trying to stall Emma long enough for Killian to toss the last few things back in their appropriate cupboards.

"Kid, what is going on, you're acting super weird," Emma laughed, and the two of them rounded the corner to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Her green eyes flew open wide as she took in the state of the kitchen before finally landing on the piles of cookies sitting on the kitchen table. "What is all this?"

"We wanted to do something to help get you in the holiday spirit," Killian answered, nervously scratching behind his ear.

"So you made me cookies?" Emma asked, sounding a little emotional.

"And latkes!" Henry piped up, jumping up and down enthusiastically.

"Well, the latkes aren't made yet, we thought you might want to be the lead chef on that particular endeavor," Killian amended.

"You guys made me cookies and latkes," she repeated, surprise and disbelief written on her face.

"Yes," Killian answered, giving her a tentative smile, and Henry nodded next to them.

"You guys are the best," Emma gushed, pulling both of her boys in for a hug.

"Come on, Mom, lets start making the latkes, I'm _so_ hungry," Henry whined as Emma leaned in to give Killian a kiss.

"Remind me to give you a proper thank you later," Emma whispered in Killian's ear, and he waggled his eyebrows salaciously in response.

The three of them moved over to the oven, where Killian placed a blue snowflake apron over Emma's clothes, and she began showing them how to make latkes. Everything came out perfectly, positively scrumptious, and they ate far more latkes and cookies than they should have while they watched Star Wars. All in all, it was probably the best holiday season Emma had ever had, and she made sure to show Killian just how much she had enjoyed it after Henry went to bed.


End file.
